That Thing You Do
by ColieMacKenzie
Summary: "So you liked it?" - "Yeah." - "Even the part where..." - "Especially that part. I loved that." The reassurance tumbles from his lips, so eager and blissful, the memory sharp behind his eyes, stealing his breath all over again as he remembers... Episode insert for 5x01, 'After The Storm.'


**AN:** Episode insert for 5x01 'After the Storm.' Fulfilling my promise to write this – so this one's for you Holly, Deb, and Hope. Without your relentlessness, this story might not even exist. With love for all your fangirling and flailing!

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**That Thing You Do**

"_So you liked it?"_

_She sits by his hip, adorably morning-rumpled and practically glowing and he swells with pride, with unabashed joy that he is the one to make her feel like this, to cause this overflowing, vivid satisfaction. _

"_Yeah." Because of course he did, every single explosive, passionate second of it. _

"_Even the part where…"_

"_Especially that part. I loved that." The reassurance tumbles from his lips, so eager and blissful, the memory sharp behind his eyes, stealing his breath all over again as he remembers... _

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She saunters back in from the bathroom, stark naked, all long legs and swaying hips and he leans against the headrest of his bed, watching her. Enjoying her. Gorgeous, alluring Kate, her beauty almost otherworldly in the low glow of his bedroom lights, her hair a golden halo of mussed up curls and he can hardly breathe. Still can't quite grasp that she's truly here. Four years he's dreamt about this, four years of hoping, daydreaming, wishing, of imagining every moment of this and yet no vision could ever hold up to the reality of Kate.

They've done this exactly once and already he is sure he'll never get enough of her, the softness of her curves as she arches into his touch, her scent and the silky slide of her skin under his fingertips. Her pleased smiles, happy and free, and the enticing sounds that tumble from her mouth when he finds just the right spots, sets her free, makes her come apart. He wants to soak her up, hold her safe inside of him if only he could.

Kneeling on the edge of the bed by his feet, Kate slowly crawls up over his legs on all fours, like a lioness stalking her prey, and her smile should be considered a weapon because it's feral and satisfied, utterly sexy and completely _aware_ of the effect she has on him. Arousal spreads in his midsection, a ruthless fire of need and then she straddles his lap, settling against his erection while the thin white sheet keeps them frustratingly separated.

She undulates her hips on a long breath, a deliberate, calculated tease of a move while she holds his eyes captive with hers, takes in his every reaction with rapt attention.

His heart hammers against his ribs, his breath a fluttery, yearning thing in his chest as he waits on her, observes the spread of pleasure on her cheeks, the pure enjoyment in her smile. The uninhibited love in her eyes. Warmth flushes his cheeks, boils his blood because seeing her taking pleasure in his body, in _him_, has got to be the sexiest sight he's ever seen.

Kate circles her hips again, a tight shimmy of her pelvis that tantalizes him with just the promise of her wet heat and he groans, wants to keep watching her but his eyes flutter closed of their own volition. Her thighs are clasped around him in a vice grip, the only point where their bodies are actually touching and he's amazed all over again how much strength is encased in those lithe, toned muscles, exemplifying the woman herself. He slides his palm up the smooth skin of her inner thigh, teases his thumb over the delicate line of bone and stretched muscle that travels toward her pelvis and she quiver in response, sinks her teeth into her lower lip.

She slips out of his grasp though, and then her fingertips dance over the lids of his eyes, her touch whisper-soft like butterfly wings. "Close your eyes," she murmurs, sliding them shut for him. He wants to protest, not ready to _not _see her when he spent four years not seeing nearly enough of her but the subtle touches of her fingers linger on his cheekbones, then flitter toward his jaw, across his chin and he simply falls under her spell.

She caresses his bottom lip, her fingertip sliding across as if she is learning his shape by touch. "And no peeking," she whispers, leaning close so her words tease the shell of his ear, and heat flares in his abdomen, spreads to his limbs.

He sinks back into the headboard, both peaceful and hovering just on the edge of heightened arousal, feels almost floating with it, a tantalizingly contradictory state of being.

He gives himself to her, completely, freely, unconditionally.

She hovers above his body; no longer touching him but he can feel her warmth seeping into his skin as if she has her own heated force field. Come to think of it, she probably does. He never could stay away from her since he first met her, too alluring was her draw, too entrancing her personality.

Her fingers trip along his jaw line, explore the length of his neck, tender points of heat against his muscles until she adds the scratch of her nails, teases then soothes and he tilts his head back, willingly giving her more access. He feels her breath first, warm moist bursts that spread over his skin, leaving him tingly, anticipatory and then it's her mouth, the merciless suction of her lips over a strand of his neck muscles, the graze of her teeth against his skin while her palms slide over his collarbones in gentle counterpoint.

He moans and Kate slides her hand down, presses it against his sternum as if to capture the sound, to feel it surge through him and he clenches his fingers into the sheet, the pillow, yearning to see her touch him yet completely enraptured by only the feel of her meticulous exploration of his body.

She moves over his torso, her lips pressing tender kisses on the curve of his shoulders, the slide of her tongue hot and wet over the swing of his collarbones and down the length of his sternum while her hands cradle his ribcage, her fingers spreading wide over his sides, then following the dips between his ribs to come together again in the middle, reconvene with her mouth right over his heart. She leaves kisses there, one, two, three, and he imagines it is one for every time he told her he loved her.

"Kate," he calls for her, almost a plea and she rises off his chest, slides a hand through the unruly strands of his hair. He can feel her body slide closer, his lips tingly in anticipation, waiting for her mouth to take his but instead it's curvy, soft skin that meets him, warm pointy flesh that grazes the seam of his lips. He groans with the realization, opens to her and swiftly sucks her breast deep into his mouth, her nipple hard against the roof of it when he flattens his tongue against her, plays her with all the skill he possesses, her flavor sweet in his mouth.

She mewls, her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulder and he can't help it, the image is so staggeringly hot that he has to peek, just for one moment, and he slips his eyes open, almost loses it right then when he finds her arched over him, so striking, her breast offered to his mouth, her head thrown back in bliss, hair tumbling down her back in unruly waves. He grows rigid with need, all his blood centered in his midsection and he cradles his palms around her ribcage, almost spanning her slender body.

Kate wiggles in his arms and he quickly squeezes his eyes shut once more, not willing to spoil her fun, to deprive either of them of the experience she so obviously wants to provide, and he feels thrown all over again how truly spectacular she is, fun-loving, open, so intense in everything she pursues. He always knew she had it in her, her relentless teasing gave him a good indication into the hidden nuances of her personality but to experience it, to have her in his arms, her body naked and willing, so freed and blissful was staggering.

"Not yet," she teases in a low singsong voice as she moves out of his grasp, her breast freeing from his mouth with a plop. Instead she glides her pelvis over his stomach in a slow slide and his hips surge up in urgency, almost desperately seeking her when he feels her curls, her wetness slither over his abdomen.

He whimpers, actually whimpers when she lifts away again, her heat lurking just out of grasp before her torturous hands cradle his torso once more. Her hands are tender, warm where she caresses his waist, her fingers teasing across the peaks of his hipbones and his hips can't stay still, twitch toward her at the exquisite torture of her touch, the drawn-out, ruthless anticipation she creates.

He moans harshly when her tongue dips into his navel, painting a hot wet line across the canvass of his abdomen. The line of kisses is like lava, coating his skin with thick blistering need while her hair bounces against his sides, tickles and teases, distracts his almost painful need like tiny needle pricks and he's sure he's never felt anything like this before.

He almost cries out when her breath bursts over him, the moist tease of her exhale, her mouth so close, so close and he isn't sure how much more he can take, is burning with the fever of her touch, her presence, _her_. Just Kate, always Kate, extraordinary Kate.

She lifts off again, slithers up his torso, grazing her nipples over his skin in a long provoking line from his abdomen to his chest and his whole body surges toward her, his head pressed back into the pillow, eyes squeezed shut so tightly that he's seeing stars.

"Breathe," she whispers the instruction into his ear, her fingertips gentling the tense set of his jaw, soothing over his eyelids and he heaves in a stark breath, the air spreading his lungs, his whole body one long line of hot, tingly need.

She moves away; he feels her rustling movements close by but he's determined now, he will keep his eyes closed, will take whatever she gives because this slow torture is like nothing he's ever experienced, ruthless and bold, arousing and devastating both.

Then she swings across his lap once more and he focuses, concentrates on feeling her, figuring out where she is, how close, what she might do next. Feeling the heat of her body close by, sinking into his skin, melting with his.

Flesh slides against his abdomen, soft curves and it takes him a moment to realize that it's her butt cheeks this time, that the sheet has disappeared and he's nudging into her heat; barely has time to work out the mental image of Kate straddling him like this when suddenly, he is swiftly, completely engulfed by her heat.

Her body grips around him, tight like a glove, wet so wet and he stills from the shock of the complete fulfillment after the staggeringly slow climb, gripping his hands around her hipbones, holding her still and snugly against him. He feels the flutters of her muscles around him, the strong breaths in her lungs, her enticing curves fitting so well against him, as if they were made to fit together.

She leans against him, her back against his chest, and nudges her nose against his cheek. "Open your eyes, Castle."

He blinks, adjusts to the flare of light against his pupils and the sight appearing before him.

"Jesus, Kate," he groans, taking in her body, how it fits against his, displayed and arched, her breasts perked high, so devastatingly gorgeous that he can barely breathe.

She hums, the vibrations shimmying through his body in tight waves; his hips jerk up, deeper into her and she gasps, at once breathless, tightly wound around him.

He turns to look at her, her face so close, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed with arousal, her lips shimmering wetly, still opened from the burst of her last moan and he captures her lips with his. Her mouth is warm when he kisses her, her lips tender, loving before she slides her tongue across and he meets her on a groan, delving together her with needy urgency, her body rocking over him in syncopation with their mouths.

She undulates her hips, lifts, circles as she slides back down, completely controls the rhythm, the speed of their coupling, the hottest, most satisfying lap dance he's ever had and he lets her take him where she pleases, gives over the reins.

Her mouth keeps slipping over his, too breathless and urgent to truly kiss but he seeks the connection, licks across her bottom lip and the burst of her groan stumbles into his mouth.

He cradles his hands across her torso, sliding them up until he cradles her breasts, tweaking and rolling her nipples between his fingertips in rhythm with his pushes into her body, and she cries out, bows up, her movements turning sloppy, urgent and needy.

Kate reaches for one of his hands, entwines their fingers together and then she slides his hand down, across her stomach and between her legs. Her wetness coating his fingers stuns him all over again, the hot slick proof of her want for him and he presses against her, rubs tight circles over her nerves.

"Feel," he murmurs, moving both their hands lower until their fingertips touch where their bodies are connected, sliding together, slick and hot and fitting.

She whimpers, mewls, and he's close, so close, can barely hold on to his sanity when she is so tight around him, her muscles clenching, her body an arched, undulating line against his. He doubles his efforts, their bodies sweat-slicked together, hands working her in rhythm with his pelvis pressing deep, fast, while he watches his hands on her skin, the way they glide over her body, touch her, the way she reacts to his every move until she cries out, bows sharply, her body squeezing him strongly, torso shuttering against him and he moves with her, once, twice until his body bursts apart, the bright white flare of lights behind his eyelids, his limbs shuddering, breaths mingling as his open mouth rubs over her lips.

She sinks against him, boneless and spent, her face nudged into the crook of his neck and her body sweat-slicked and heated, draped onto his chest. He wraps his arms around her stomach, cradling her to him. Holding her close, safe.

Loving her.

* * *

_She smiles at him, pleased and just this side of shy. "Good. Me too." _


End file.
